There was a tradesman, a painter named Bucky, who was very interested in making a penny where he could, so he often would thin down paint to make it go further.

As it happened, he got away with this for some time, but eventually, when his church decided to do a big restoration job on the painting of one of their biggest buildings. Bucky put in a bid, and because his price was so low, he got the job.

And so he set to erecting the trestles and setting up the planks, and buying the paint and, yes, thinning it down with turpentine.

Well, Bucky was up on the scaffolding, painting away, the job nearly completed when suddenly there was a horrendous clap of thunder, and the sky opened, the rain poured down, washing the thinned paint from all over the church and knocking Bucky clear off the scaffold, to land on the lawn surrounded by telltale puddles of the thinned and useless paint.

Bucky was no fool. He knew this was a judgment from the Almighty, so he stood up and cried: "God, dear God! Forgive me! What should I do?"